


Valentine's Day Kiss

by setepenre_set



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: Roxanne gets roped into agreeing to publicly give a kiss to whoever donates the most money to the annual Metro City Children's Home charity drive.





	

“Seriously?” Roxanne says.

“It’s for charity!” her boss says, gesturing expansively, a grin edging onto his face.

“Uh, huh,” Roxanne says, unimpressed. “Roxanne Ritchi gives a kiss for charity. Very…cute.”

“Right! It’s a Valentine’s Day thing!”

“Right,” Roxanne says, “so on Valentine’s Day, I kiss whoever donates the most money to the annual Metro City Children’s Home charity drive, do I?”

Her boss nods, still beaming.

“And the fact that Wayne Scott has been the biggest donor for the charity drive for the past five years—and the fact that you’ve been pestering me for months for an on-air kiss between me and Metro Man—those are facts completely unrelated to your little charity kiss idea, of course.”

His face falls, and then his expression turns mulishly stubborn.

“It’s what the people want, Roxy!”

“We’re a news station!” Roxanne cries, “I am a reporter! I report the news! I am not an actress on some—silly soap opera! I don’t have to give the people what they want—”

“Think of how much money this is gonna make the charity,” her boss says cajolingly.

“Are you kidding me; it’s not going to make any difference to the charity!” Roxanne says, “Surely everyone knows that Wayne donates so much money that they’ll never win!”

“Yeah, logically,” her boss says, “but it’ll get people excited!”

“And it’s not as if,” Roxanne says, “a kiss from me is going to be any sort of great prize to people!”

“What are you talking about, you’re a sex symbol for this city! Metro Man’s girlfriend; Megamind’s Tempt—”

“Don’t call me that!” Roxanne snarls, gesturing threateningly with a stapler.

“I’m just saying—”

“Well, don’t,” Roxanne snaps, slamming the stapler back down on her desk.

(Megamind doesn’t mean it, when he calls her that; it’s just a joke, just him making fun of her. Temptress. The fact that people have bought into it probably just makes the whole thing funnier to him.)

“Roxy—”

The elevator dings open and several people Roxanne doesn’t recognize step out. Her boss breaks into a huge grin and waves them over.

“Miss Ritchi!” the woman at the front of the group says, walking toward Roxanne, “I can’t tell you how grateful we are—”

“And Roxy here is real excited,” Roxanne’s boss says, “to help you all out!”

He leans over and says, through his smile, in a voice meant for Roxanne’s ears only, “I already told them you’d do it.”

“Really,” the woman says, beaming and extending a hand to Roxanne, “this is going to be so great for the Metro City Children’s Home!”

So Roxanne grits her teeth and forces a smile and shakes the woman’s hand and only _imagines_ violently murdering her boss with the stapler.

It’s fine.

This will be fine.

She is incredibly angry but it will be fine; Wayne won’t expect her to really kiss him; he is definitely not interested in her, any more than she is interested in him.

(any more than Megamind is really interested in her)

She’ll just kiss Wayne on the cheek, and it will be fine.

“I’m just so pleased that KCMP can do our part this charity drive,” Roxanne’s boss says, grinning from ear to ear, clearly imagining his precious on-screen kiss.

Won’t he be disappointed when it turns out to be a quick peck on the cheek.

(Roxanne very nearly lets out a—very quiet—evil laugh at that thought, but she stops herself, just in time.)

* * *

 

Going with the whole kiss theme, they want to film her blowing a kiss at the camera after her next rescue by Metro Man (for the ‘authentic, just-been-rescued look’ is how Vera, the head of the charity’s PR team puts it).

At least the charity is going to have their own camera people—Roxanne won’t have to blow a kiss in Hal’s direction. Small mercies.

So Roxanne memorizes the line they want her to say before the kiss—and then she waits to be kidnapped.

* * *

 

The kidnapping happens three days later and it’s a pretty good kidnapping, the way that Roxanne ranks them—not that she would ever admit to having such a ranking system in place.

The best kidnappings are the ones where something malfunctions badly before Megamind even contacts Metro Man. Then Minion makes snacks and unties one of Roxanne’s hands and she eats and watches while Megamind does the repair work and the three of them talk. Or sometimes Minion makes Megamind eat, too, while Minion does the repair work instead.

The gold standard kidnapping was the Christmas kidnapping, two years ago—the battle suit had malfunctioned beyond even Megamind’s ability to repair. He had thrown a wrench at the machine finally and yelled a long string of syllables of what Roxanne was pretty sure was profanity in his first language, stomped over and thrown himself into his chair, then sullenly grabbed a cookie and bit into it, scowling.

He’d taken his gloves off, and his spikes, and there had been a smudge of engine grease under one of his eyes and on his forehead, and his mouth had been flat and unhappy. Roxanne had asked him if he wanted to play cards.

He hadn’t, but, it turned out Megamind plays a wicked game of Clue—almost as good as Roxanne.

She’d been hoping he would ask for a rematch, this Christmas, but—

It had—just been an ordinary evil plot.

And the—the depth of the disappointment she had felt at that—

It had shocked, almost frightened her.

After she’d been rescued and had gone home, Roxanne had sat alone on her couch until well after midnight, staring blankly out the window at the festive lights of the city, an aching coldness creeping over her heart like the kiss of frost on barren ground.

She’d made him smile three times last Christmas, the Christmas they played Clue. She’d made him smile three times and laugh once, and she’d felt each one as a victory. Roxanne is pretty sure Megamind hates Christmas; it always seems to make him so unhappy. She’d wanted to ask him why, this year. She’d wanted—

Well.

Anyway.

This kidnapping, nothing malfunctions, but the two of them get a lot of good banter in, even before Megamind starts the broadcast.

Roxanne always prefers Megamind when he isn’t being filmed, when he doesn’t have one eye on the camera, when he’s actually paying attention to—he’s—softer-edged, then, and—

Well, it’s not like the villainous persona he puts on for the cameras can’t be fun sometimes—although Roxanne would definitely never admit to that out loud, either—she just—she—she likes him best when he’s—

—she likes him best when he’s him.

The broadcast banter goes well, too; they do a whole bit about New Year’s resolutions and breaking them. Megamind asks her what her New Year’s resolution was; Roxanne—

(whose real resolution is to stop obsessing over—)

—makes up a flippant lie about cutting down on cake and Megamind gives her an utterly baffled look, as though he can’t imagine why she would need to diet, which is—extremely gratifying, yes, especially since she’s gained five pounds since Christmas and she’s pretty sure he’s observant enough to notice that—

—yes, very gratifying and flattering and—

—and _not at all conducive to helping her keep her actual New Year’s resolution, damn it._

“Want to know my New Year’s Resolution, Miss Ritchi?” Megamind asks, eyes sparkling.

“Mmm,” Roxanne says, faking boredom. “If I say no, will you shut up?”

“This year,” Megamind declares grandly, ignoring her, “I have decided to renounce evil in favor of becoming a solid citizen, choosing to donate my time and money to philanthropy and charitable works!”

“Really,” Roxanne says dryly.

Megamind grins at her wickedly.

“No,” he says with a wink, and pulls the lever that sends the cage she’s in swinging out over the pit filled with knives.

Then Wayne shows up and the ‘rescue’ happens.

Megamind doesn’t get injured, which is good, but he does get arrested, which bumps Roxanne’s rating of this particular kidnapping down from good to just pretty good.

(She’s always preferred the times that Megamind manages to escape to the times that he’s captured. She preferred them even before she realized that she—)

The people from the charity group show up to film on time. There are several of them, holding small, home video recorders, which is not really what Roxanne would suggest if they’re going for real quality, but, you know, whatever.

She does the line—

“Donate today—anyone can be a hero!”

And she blows the silly air kiss.

And then she goes home.

* * *

 

The people from the Children’s Home charity drive call her a few days later to show her the edited commercial before it airs.

The girl who edited the footage—Anna, she introduces herself as—shows Roxanne the clip. It’s not bad—a couple sweeping shots of the crowd with a voice over from the charity spokesperson, then Roxanne’s line and the air kiss.

Anna must be bored, or reluctant to get back to work, because she offers to show Roxanne the rest of the raw footage that didn’t get included.

Well—offers isn’t really the right word. Insists is probably closer.

Roxanne has no idea why; the clip looks good the way it is, and she’s already seen herself blow the air kiss; it’s not that impressive.

So when the footage rolls, she looks at the crowd instead of herself, looks at—

(oh come on, Roxanne, be honest)

—Megamind.

She looks at Megamind.

He’s leaning up against a squad car, hands cuffed in front of his body and he’s looking—

(is he looking at her? or is that just wishful thinking?)

Anyway, he’s leaning there looking at something that is located in the general vicinity of the Roxanne on the screen, watching it attentively, and then he moves his hands, reaching up with a quick, fluttering motion, as though he’s—grabbing something out of the air? His fingers curl protectively around whatever it is, and then he presses one palm swiftly to his chest. He lowers his hands then, and they’re—empty.

Roxanne, frowning, moves closer to the screen. What on earth—?

“Rewind that, please,” she says.

If Anna thinks it an odd request, she doesn’t say so. The footage rewinds, then plays again: Megamind, leaning against the car, looking at—

Roxanne follows his line of sight to herself, sees herself blow a kiss, then glances quickly back at Megamind, just in time to see him—

—reach up, hand grasping swiftly at something invisible.

Is he—? Did he—?

Did he actually pretend to catch the kiss she blew? Is that—did he actually do that?

(On the screen, Megamind presses his hand to his chest.)

“Rewind again,” Roxanne says sharply.

The footage rewinds, plays again.

On the screen, she sees herself blow the kiss, sees Megamind pull it out of the air and press it to his heart.

That is—

Roxanne feels as though she cannot breathe, suddenly.

Is—is he just—is he just making fun of her, like the whole Temptress thing; is this another joke?

(oh god, please let it not be a—)

“Again,” Roxanne whispers.

The footage plays again; she keeps her eyes fixed on Megamind this time, watches his body language, the way he holds himself.

(soft edges, relaxed posture—Megamind didn’t know he was being filmed. He never stands like that, moves like that, when he knows he’s being filmed.)

(And he wouldn’t know about the charity’s cameras, would he, Roxanne thinks, feeling dizzy. They were smaller than the news cameras, and not held by any recognizable film crew. Roxanne hadn’t been holding a microphone; he hadn’t known she was being filmed, hadn’t known he was being—he hadn’t known—)

Roxanne staggers back a few steps, mind whirling.

“I didn’t use that part,” Anna says, tapping her pencil on her desk and pointedly not looking in Roxanne’s direction.

“—thank you,” Roxanne says faintly.

“You know,” Anna says, voice conversational, “if you wanna get technical, Wayne Scott isn’t actually our biggest contributor.”

“—ah?” Roxanne says.

“Nope,” Anna says, popping the P sound. “Charity just puts that out ‘cause it sounds good. Our biggest contributor each year is actually an anonymous donor.”

Roxanne makes a vague noise.

“Yep,” Anna says, seemingly unbothered by the way she’s having this conversation pretty much herself, “same guy each year, too. Goes through different intermediaries—lawyers and stuff, you know—but it’s the same amount each time.”

Roxanne blinks hard, shakes her head to clear it—why is this girl telling her—

“You know what I think,” Anna says, turning to Roxanne at last, pencil upheld, “I think somebody with a whole lot of money doesn’t want people to know what a good guy he really is.”

Anna raises her eyebrows and allows the tip of her pencil to tick over sideways, in the direction of the screen, so that it’s pointing at the frozen image of—

“You know what I mean?” Anna asks.

Roxanne feels her eyes go wide.

“—yes,” she says, because she’s pretty sure she does know what Anna means, and—

—oh god, that really would be like him, the ridiculous idiot—

—Megamind, with his stupid deathtraps that aren’t actually dangerous and his giant robots that somehow never actually step on anyone and the way he sent her home that one kidnapping when she had the flu and—

“I have to leave,” Roxanne blurts out, and then bolts for the elevator, where she has to lean up against the wall for several floors and try to remember how to breathe.

* * *

 

Back in the office, Anna grins and starts typing up an email to her Uncle Gary, who works at the prison:

> _bet it all on valentine’s day. and remember—when you win, you owe me half._

She sends it, then settles back in her chair. The guards at Metro City’s Prison for the Criminally Gifted have a running bet on when the city’s favorite supervillain and prize reporter will get together; Uncle Gary told the whole family about it last Christmas, and Anna knew she had to get in on that. She’s seen the broadcasts of them, okay?

Anna twirls her pencil gleefully. Nothing wrong with stacking the odds in your own favor.

* * *

 

After Roxanne makes it back to work—after she has a small episode of trying not to hyperventilate in the copy room—she texts Wayne to meet her for lunch.

“Wayne,” Roxanne says, sliding into the booth across from him, “I have an idea.”

“—oh no,” Wayne says, looking worried, “not again.”

“This is a good idea,” Roxanne says sharply.

“You say that every time,” Wayne mutters.

Roxanne shoots a glare at him and he hides behind his menu.

“I—I dunno, Roxy,” Wayne says, when she’s finished explaining the plan. “I—do you really think this is a good idea?”

“Yes, I do,” Roxanne says firmly, gesturing sharply with her french fry. “Now are you gonna back me up on this or not, Wayne?”

Wayne sighs.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay okay okay; I’ll back you up.”

“Good,” Roxanne says, dipping her fry in her milkshake and taking a bite.

* * *

 

The next kidnapping, Roxanne is grinning even before the bag comes off, which seems to throw Megamind for a loop.

“And what are you looking so happy for, Miss Ritchi?” he says suspiciously.

“Can’t I just be pleased to see you, Megamind?” Roxanne asks, pursing her lips in a fake pout and looking up at him through her lashes.

Megamind’s eyes go saucer-wide and his cheeks and ears go bright pink. His mouth actually falls open; for a moment he looks absolutely stunned, and then his expression shifts to something like deep concern.

“Has someone drugged you?” he asks.

Roxanne arches her eyebrows at him.

“You mean besides you, with the knockout spray?” she says, “No.”

She smirks at him and crosses her legs, congratulating herself on today’s particular outfit selection when his eyes flick down to her skirt’s rising hemline. He looks quickly up at her face again, blushing even harder now.

Roxanne smiles wider and Megamind’s eyebrows snap together in a frown.

“—what are you playing at, Temptress?” he asks, voice low, tone more dangerous than she’s ever heard from him before.

It sends a positively delicious thrill down Roxanne’s spine. She licks her lips.

“Playing?” she says, opening her eyes wide in an expression of patently false innocence, “Who says I’m playing, Megamind?”

“I do,” he growls, and Roxanne laughs delightedly—Megamind is especially sexy when he’s angry; who knew?

Ooh, maybe she can get him to curse in that alien language; the way he did at that uncooperative battlesuit that one kidnapping; that would be excellent.

“I,” Roxanne says, “had the most interesting conversation with the people at the Metro City Children’s Home charity drive last week.”

She sees the statement register on Megamind’s face, sees his glare falter slightly—for a moment, he looks almost worried, but then it’s gone.

“You know, of course,” Roxanne continues, “about the big Valentine’s Day celebration at the end of the charity drive—about the kiss?”

Something like hurt flashes in Megamind’s expression, then a mask of impatience falls over it.

“Yes, yes,” Megamind says, waving a dismissive hand, “the big kiss with your tights-wearing boyfriend; very romantic, Miss—”

“I never understood,” Roxanne says softly, “why you thought he was my boyfriend. Everybody else thinks so because we are friends, and we do things together sometimes, as friends. And because you tell them that we’re dating. But you—you thought that before we even were friends. By our second meeting, you were convinced that we had to be dating, and I have never understood why, Megamind.”

“I knew,” Megamind snaps, “because Wayne Scott has gotten everything that he has ever wanted.”

He gestures at Roxanne, a sharp, angry motion. She blinks at him, not really understanding what he’s getting at.

“Oh, come—” Megamind stops and makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

Roxanne just stares at him.

“And how could he not want you?” Megamind bursts out angrily.

Roxanne’s lips part.

“That,” she says, “is—actually very sweet. Inaccurate—but sweet.”

Megamind throws her a very dirty look indeed.

“The kiss,” Roxanne says, articulating her words carefully, “goes to the person who gives the biggest donation to the charity.”

“Which is Wayne Scott, your boyfriend; why are we still talking about this?!”

“Megamind,” Roxanne says, “we both know Wayne Scott didn’t give the biggest amount to the Metro City Children’s Home charity drive this year.”

Megamind goes perfectly still.

“And we both know,” Roxanne says, not looking away from Megamind’s face, “we both know who did. Don’t we?”

He stares at her for a long moment, his eyes wide again, his breathing shallow.

“…there’s no way you could know that,” he whispers, “I—that donation was anonymous; I made it anonymously; there is no way you could know that—”

Roxanne smiles at him.

“I didn’t, for sure,” she says, “until you told me just now.”

There is a beat of utter silence and stillness, and then Megamind does say something in that alien language, a phrase with a lot of sibilant hissing noises in it:

“Sssyx-shsss alte—Ssshsss.”

Roxanne really desperately wants to know what that means, especially since his tone seems somewhere oddly nearer to admiration, rather than anger.

“—why are you doing this?” he says softly.

“I wanted to make sure,” Roxanne says, forcing the words out around her heart, which seems to have lodged itself in her throat, “I wanted to make sure that you aren’t just planning on leaving me standing up there on that stage alone on Valentine’s Day.”

Megamind’s expression goes—entirely blank.

He tips his head at her, eyebrows drawing together slightly.

“Is that why you’re doing this?” he asks, voice distant. “Is that the joke? Get me up on that stage so that everyone can laugh when your boyfriend punches me? Yes, very funny; the blue loser actually thinks that Roxanne Ritchi would ever kiss him—”

“What?” Roxanne says, “Megamind—no—”

“I mean, I know you don’t like me, but I didn’t—I didn’t think you hated me this much,” Megamind says.

“Megamind—Megamind, I _do_ like you; that’s the _point_ —” Roxanne says desperately.

“Stop,” Megamind whispers, face pale now, “please stop. It isn’t funny. I can’t—”

“—Megamind—”

He shakes his head violently, backing away from her.

“I’ll get—I’ll tell Minion to take you home; you can go; I won’t bother you ever again—I—”

“Megamind—”

“—I need this moment to stop happening now,” Megamind says, sounding lost, eyes wide and wet and wounded, and then he whirls on his heel and flees, leaving Roxanne completely alone in an utterly empty room.

* * *

 

“I don’t think I can do this,” Roxanne says, staring at a red crepe-paper heart hung backstage and feeling sick.

“Of course you can!” Wayne says with slightly desperate cheer, “Everything’s gonna be fine, Roxy! He’ll show; just wait and—”

“He is not going to come,” Roxanne hisses, feeling tears at the back of her eyes, “It was a disaster, Wayne, I told you! He is never going to come; he hates me now—”

The red crepe heart mocks her.

Stupid awful horrible Valentine’s Day; if she never sees another paper heart it will be too soon for her taste—

“Oh, come on,” Wayne says, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad—”

“It was!” Roxanne says, resisting the urge to shred the paper heart, “It was exactly that bad, Wayne! It was the worst. Minion was mad at me, Wayne. Minion! Minion wouldn’t even talk to me before he used the knock out spray! There’s no going back from something like that!”

“Roxy—”

“And the thing is, Wayne,” Roxanne says, sinking down to sit on the floor, “he—he wanted me back.”

(Megamind leaning up against the car, raising his hands to pull her kiss out of the air)

“—he really did,” Roxanne continues, wrapping her arms around her knees, “I never thought he ever would. But he—I—I had a chance.”

She laughs bitterly, telling herself that she is not going to cry because then she will have to redo her makeup before the presentation. She can cry later, when she gets home.

“I had one chance,” she says dully, “and I ruined it. I ruined everything.”

She glances up at Wayne with a sad smile—

—and then she then frowns.

“Why do you have that guilty expression on your face right now?” Roxanne asks.

“—guilty expression? What guilty expression?” Wayne asks, expression of guilt deepening.

“Wayne,” Roxanne says flatly, and then gives him The Look.

(Wayne hates The Look; he says it reminds him of his Great Aunt Maureen, who made him stand in the corner when he was a child after he broke her favorite vase at a party.)

Under the onslaught of The Look, Wayne quails visibly and then breaks.

“Okay, so I didn’t want to mention this before, but I’m thinking that maybe the way the little guy reacted isn’t really so much down to what you did as it is to, uh, some—other stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” Roxanne asks impatiently.

Wayne gives a nervous laugh.

“Well, uh—I guess I never really—mentioned—that Megamind and I—sorta—went to school together…”

Roxanne looks at him blankly. He fidgets.

“Right,” Wayne says, “and, uh. Yep, we—went to school…together. The same—the same school—you know?”

“I have indeed grasped that fact now; thank you,” Roxanne says, narrowing her eyes.

Wayne gulps.

“Right, right—right. Uh. So—when we were in school—together—”

“Oh my god, Wayne; I got it! You went to school together! Get to the point!”

“I’m trying! Anyway, he was always sort of a weird—I mean—he was—uh—pretty much like he is now, which is…”

Wayne glances at Roxanne’s face and evidently decides that attempting to further describe Megamind would be dangerous.

“—and so some of us used to play this game where we would pretend like we wanted him to play with us and then we’d sorta—throwthingsathim—instead…”

“—come. again,” Roxanne says flatly.

“We were kids!” Wayne says defensively, but he’s not able to meet her eyes, “We were kids and he was—well, okay, there were a few times, when we were teenagers, too, and some of the girls would act like they had crushes on him as a joke, and once we invited him to a party that wasn’t really happening, but he’d pretty much stopped reacting to stuff like that by then, which kinda made it funnier, the way he’d just go blank—I mean! In retrospect, not—not funny at all!”

Roxanne rises slowly to her feet.

“Did I ever tell you,” she says coldly, “about the time Bobby Fairview asked me to the prom as a joke?”

Wayne winces.

“…you did, yeah,” he says. “That was—that was one of the things that—made me realize, you know, that—aw, hell, Roxy—I was a real jerk in high school—but. Anyway, that’s—I think that’s—maybe why Megamind—you know…reacted like that.”

“And you didn’t think,” Roxanne says with icy calm that is but a thin veneer over her boiling rage, “you didn’t think that maybe this was information you should give me before I talked to Megamind?”

Wayne stares at his feet.

“…I just didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” he says.

“Well I am,” Roxanne snarls viciously.

Wayne flinches.

The tech coordinator for the charity presentation pops out from behind a giant decorative vase full of heart-shaped balloons, smiling widely.

“Okay! So we’re on in…uh. Is everything…”

“Everything is fine,” Roxanne says, turning on the woman with a smile, “absolutely fine!”

It’s probably a slightly manic smile, to judge by the tech coordinator’s expression as she backs away, hands upheld.

“Uh—okay—then. Well. We’re—on in five minutes?”

“Perfect! Thank you!” Roxanne says.

“…so are we just doing the cheek kiss, then, or…?” Wayne says.

“No,” Roxanne says, through the gritted teeth of her smile, “we will not be doing the cheek kiss, because if you come any closer to me, Wayne Scott, I am going to scream. We are going to go out there on that stage and I am going to say a line about the biggest contributor actually being an anonymous donor, and then I will say something like ‘so here’s to you, whoever and wherever you are!’ and I will blow a kiss at the crowd. That’s what’s happening. Got. It?”

“—yeah,” Wayne says.

“…ohhhkay,” the tech coordinator says, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna go now—”

She flees.

“Fantastic,” Roxanne says.

And then she rips the red crepe heart off its string and rends it to pieces, crumples the pieces into a ball, and throws it on the ground.

This fails to relieve her feelings in any way.

“—littering,” Wayne says weakly.

Roxanne growls under her breath, snatches the crumpled red ball of paper from the ground, and stuffs it violently into the giant decorative vase of balloons.

* * *

 

The curtain goes up. Roxanne smiles mechanically at the watching crowd as the Mayor give a (very boring) speech, as the head of the Metro City Children’s Home gives a (slightly less boring) speech.

Roxanne doesn’t hear a word of either speech; they wash over her in waves of meaningless sound. The February air is cold; she feels it through her slightly-too-light coat, chosen more for looks than warmth, feels it on her hands and on her face, but it seems unimportant, distant.

She doesn’t shiver.

(the kiss of frost on barren ground)

She smiles and smiles and smiles until her face aches like her heart.

Someone hands her the microphone.

Roxanne blinks, looks out at the sea of faces.

“Well,” she says, amplified voice bright and cheerful, “I am so happy to be here today!”

The crowd cheers; she smiles at them. There are cameras in the front row, the lenses glinting in the sunlight.

“Now you all know,” she says, forcing an arch look out at the audience, “that I promised a to give a kiss to the person who donated the most money to the Metro City Children’s Home charity drive this year—and the charity drive lists Wayne Scott as its biggest donor.”

The applause this time is deafening.

(it’s what the people want)

Roxanne smiles—her lips are cold—and waits for the applause to die down.

Finally it does.

“But that’s not strictly accurate,” Roxanne says, still smiling.

(Roxanne is a reporter)

There is a restless shifting in the crowd; the people looking sideways at each other, confused.

(she doesn’t have to give the people what they want)

“The person who really gave the most money this year—was actually an anonymous donor.”

A chill wind picks up, making Roxanne’s eyes sting, making her vision blur slightly with tears.

“—so—would—this person—please, would you come forward now—please—” Roxanne says, voice and smile wavering against her will.

He’s not going to come.

Roxanne knows that.

She knows.

She waits, anyway, though. She looks out at the sea of staring faces, all of them watching her, and she waits.

Waits as the silence lengthens—lengthens—the moment stretching out like a wire pulled too far, and it _hurts_ —it _hurts_ and—

A gasp ripples through the crowd at the bottom right-hand corner of the stage; Roxanne looks down and—

Megamind is standing there, dressed all in black.

—of course, of course he’s wearing black, but it—different, it’s—they’re not his usual clothes. The collar is smaller, and there are no spikes, no gleaming silver buckles—he isn’t even wearing his gun—there’s no shoulder armor, no insignia at his throat, nothing but a black cape that sweeps down from his shoulders, black boots and black gloves, everything entirely in black, like he’s in mourning—

He climbs the stairs and his eyes are on hers the entire time.

She says his name—breathes it, really, but the microphone picks the sound up clearly, amplifies it, and another gasp ripples through the crowd.

They draw back slightly, but nobody runs, and again there is a silence—they’re waiting, Roxanne thinks distantly, her eyes still locked with Megamind’s, for Metro Man to speak, or for Megamind to speak, for the—for the expected ritual scene to begin.

But neither of them do, and Roxanne doesn’t speak either—can’t speak; not with Megamind looking at her like that, as though looking at her hurts him terribly somehow—as though he’s facing a firing squad and he wants her face to be the last thing he sees—

“Megamind! What are you doing here?”

The Mayor’s voice is reedy, lost to all but those onstage and the first few rows of people.

“I’m here,” Megamind says, eyes still fixed on Roxanne’s, his voice, although un-amplified, ringing out clearly over the crowd, “because Miss Ritchi asked.”

There is another silence, and then the Mayor, who seems to have realized that, Metro Man having suddenly and inexplicably lost interest in bantering with his nemesis, the duty falls to him to follow the usual script, clears his throat.

“You don’t seriously expect us to believe that you were the—anonymous donor who gave so much money to the charity drive!” the Mayor says, and then chuckles.

A wave of laughter sweeps through the first few rows of the audience.

Megamind gives Roxanne a small, bitter smile and then looks away at last, breaking the eye contact.

(and it does feel like something broken, a snapped thread between the two of them)

“No, I don’t,” Megamind says simply. “I don’t expect you to believe me.”

He looks out at the crowd.

“I don’t expect any of you to believe me,” he says, “I never did. I could tell you all exactly how much money I gave; it’s the same amount I give every year; I could tell you which intermediaries I used to make the donation anonymously this year—could tell you all the people I’ve used as intermediaries every year since I started—but it wouldn’t convince you.”

He tilts his head in Roxanne’s direction.

“She knows, though,” he says. “She figured it out. Tricked me, actually, into confirming a suspicion that she had.”

He looks at Roxanne again.

“You—you are absolutely brilliant, Miss Ritchi, I hope you know that,” he says with breathtaking sincerity, “It has always been one of the things I admire most about you.”

He turns back to the crowd.

“So she figured it out. And she asked me—if I was going to be here, today.”

He laughs, and the sound twists at Roxanne’s heart.

“And of course,” Megamind says, “of course I knew it had to be a trap.”

He looks over at Roxanne, swallows, then lifts his chin.

“But when the girl of your dreams—the girl you have been in love with for—years—asks you to show up somewhere and kiss her,” Megamind says deliberately, not looking away from Roxanne’s face, “you show up. Trap or no.”

He tears his gaze away from Roxanne’s face, turning back to the crowd and opening his arms wide.

“So here I am,” he says, “and you can laugh at me if you want to—” he glances over at Wayne, “—and you can hit me if you want to.”

He turns back to the crowd with a smile that looks like it hurts.

“—it’s not like I’ve never been laughed at or hit before,” he says.

He drops his arms and his smile falls away.

“Here I am,” he says again, sounding defeated.

Megamind looks over at Roxanne once more, meeting her eyes.

“Because I love you, Roxanne Ritchi,” he says, “and you asked.”

The sound Roxanne makes is more of a sob than a gasp. She drops the microphone she’s holding and runs to him, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground, and then she throws her arms around him, her face pressed to his neck, to the material of his collar.

He doesn’t seem to know how to react to the sudden embrace. He’s like a statue in her arms, and he doesn’t reach up to put his own arms around her, but that’s all right; that’s all right—

“—I love you, too,” Roxanne says.

She doesn’t give him time to react to that, either. She can’t, she wants—

Roxanne loosens her arms from around his neck and rocks back on her heels enough that she can look into his eyes—so wide and green, so green—as she cups his face in one hand and grips his collar with the other.

“I love you, too, Megamind,” she says again, and then she pulls him forward and kisses him.

He’s still and statue like even as their lips meet, but then Roxanne moves her hand from his collar to cup the other side of his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as she presses closer to him and—

—and Megamind kisses her back.

One of his hands goes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangle in her hair; his other arm goes around her waist, pulling her even closer, stealing her breath, but she’s breathless anyway with the way that he’s kissing her—as though kissing her is the most important thing in the entire world, as though he’ll die if he stops.

The crowd—shocked silent—stares in collective confusion, and then someone lets out a whoop of joy.

(It’s Anna, whose Uncle Gary, watching the live broadcast back at the prison, has just texted her to let her know what a lot of money the two of them have just won.)

There’s a half-second of silence and then—

“—yeah! Let’s—hear it for love!” Wayne calls out, applauding as he turns a flip in the air. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Metro City!”

And so, more baffled than ever, but responding instinctively to the sight of Metro Man cheering, the crowd begins, hesitantly, to applaud as well.

Wayne turns another, even more impressive flip, over the heads of the (extremely confused, but raggedly clapping) members of the audience, who all look up automatically at him—

Giving Roxanne, who has finally broken the kiss to breathe, just enough time to drag a very stunned Megamind off the stage before anybody notices they’re leaving.

* * *

 

“—decided to renounce evil in favor of becoming a solid citizen, choosing to donate my time and money to philanthropy and charitable works!”

The image on the television screen changes to the charity drive award ceremony, to Megamind stepping onto the stage.

“—but that was a lie,” Megamind says, sounding bewildered, his arms around Roxanne, the two of them sitting on her couch together, Roxanne half in Megamind’s lap.

Megamind looks at her, and he looks bewildered, too.

“I was lying,” he says, “that was a lie.”

“I know,” Roxanne says, unable to meet his eyes, her fingers twisting nervously in the material of the shirt Megamind is wearing, “I know that, but—but I was thinking—maybe—maybe it doesn’t have to be?”

Megamind stares at her for a moment, and then he laughs quietly.

“Is—is this you—seducing me to the side of good, Temptress?” he asks.

Roxanne places her palms flat on his chest, smooths the material of his shirt with her thumbs.

“—only if you want it to be,” she says.

She looks up at his face, lifting one hand to touch his cheek.

“Do you—do you want it to be?” she asks him.

Megamind’s lips part, an expression almost of reverence in his eyes as he looks at her.

“Roxanne—” he says.

He takes a sharp breath.

“—I—I really—really do.”

Roxanne feels her heart light up as she smiles at him. Megamind, watching her face, makes a quiet sound of wonder, and then he covers Roxanne’s hand with his own, turns his head, and presses a kiss to her palm.

(Her other hand, on his chest, over his heart, tightens in the material of his shirt again as Roxanne leans forward to kiss him.)

**Author's Note:**

> “Sssyx-shsss alte—Ssshsss" (my beloved, most bright/intelligent—I love you.)
> 
> The complete breakdown of the entire M’ega language phrase is as follows:
> 
> ss — a hissing noise, indicative of affection “I love/like you” [not necessarily romantic]
> 
> You lengthen it to intensify.
> 
> ssssss — an expression of intense affection “I love/like you a great deal”
> 
> To make it explicitly romantic, you put a ‘sh’ sound in the middle of the basic ss sound of affection.
> 
> Sshss (I love you) [romantic] [should almost be a whistle in the middle]
> 
> Ssshsss (I love you) [intensely] [romantic] [again, it should sound like a whistle in the middle]
> 
> ‘x’ indicates possession
> 
> ‘y’ is a sort of vocal slide between sounds
> 
> syx (my love) [not necessarily romantic]
> 
> You lengthen the ’ss’ sound to intensify.
> 
> sssyx (my love) [intense, but not necessarily romantic]
> 
> Or you could, instead, add a ‘shs’ sound after the x to make it romantic
> 
> syx-shss (my love) [romantic] [light tone / feeling]
> 
> Intensify by drawing out both ss sounds.
> 
> Sssyx-shsss (my love) [intense feeling] [romantic]
> 
> alte (most bright) [bright as in glowing brilliantly // intelligent // or both]
> 
> Sssyx-shsss alte (my love, most bright/intelligent)
> 
> So put everything together, and you get:
> 
> Sssyx-shsss alte—Ssshsss (my love, most bright/intelligent—I love you)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading; I hope you enjoyed the story! More M'ega language and culture information, including an (unfinished) alphabet, can be found at my tumblr. I go by setepenre-set there.


End file.
